Page 37
Story: Made for Reign
“What do you mean, for now?”
“I mean that you and me are happening, Princess. The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be.”
Before I can respond, he captures my mouth in another searing kiss that leaves me dizzy and desperate. When he pulls back, his thumb traces my swollen lips.
“Fix your dress,” he orders, stepping back. “And I’ll be in touch soon.”
Then he’s gone, leaving me sitting on the bathroom counter with my dress bunched around my waist and my mind reeling.
With trembling fingers, I smooth my hair back into place and adjust my dress. But I can’t erase the flush on my cheeks or the satisfied glow in my eyes.
I can only hope the dark lighting of the club will hide what just happened.
The soundsof the party drift up from the floors below as I leave the bathroom and make my way to the elevator.
The thought of facing Gio after what just happened makes my stomach clench with dread. How will I look him in the eye? How will I pretend nothing has changed when everything has?
The elevator doors open, and I step inside, watching my reflection in the mirrored walls. I practice the smile I’ve perfected over years of galas and charity events. Pleasant. Composed. Revealing nothing of the storm raging inside me.
By the time the doors open on the main floor, I’ve reassembled my mask.
I step out and scan the crowd for Gio. Finally, I see him standing near the bar. Even from this distance, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes dart around the room as he looks for me.
Shit.
I’ve been gone too long.
Before I can move toward him, my gaze collides with Reign’s from across the room. He’s standing next to Marcus with a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand, but his attention is fixed entirely on me. The intensity of his stare sends heat coursing through my veins. I force myself to look away, but the damage is done. I feel marked by him, claimed in a way that both terrifies and thrills me.
“There you are.” Gio’s voice startles me. “I was about to send someone to find you.”
I turn to him with my practiced smile. “Sorry. There was a line.”
His eyes narrow slightly. “You missed my toast to Ben.”
“I’m… I—I wasn’t feeling well.”
He wraps an arm around my waist. “Are you better now?”
“Actually, I’m still not feeling well,” I say, touching my temple lightly. “I think I need to call it an early night.”
His grip on my waist tightens. “What’s wrong?”
“Just a headache. Too much excitement, I think. You should stay, though. This is your night to celebrate Ben’s victory.”
“Nonsense. If you’re not feeling well, we leave together.”
“Really, Gio, you don’t need to?—”
“I said we’re leaving.” He signals to one of his men across the room with a subtle nod. “Marco will bring the car around.”
I want to protest, to insist I can take a rideshare home, but the steel in his eyes stops me.
“Of course,” I murmur, my stomach sinking.
As we move toward the exit, I can’t help but glance back toward where Reign was standing. He’s still there, his pale eyes tracking our movement across the room. Even from this distance, I feel the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. Those eyes burn into my back as Gio guides me through the crowd, his hand firmly planted at the base of my spine.
The elevator ride down seemingly takes an eternity. Gio stands beside me in silence, but I can feel his mood shifting, darkening like storm clouds gathering on the horizon. By the time we reach the ground floor, the tension radiating from him is almost suffocating.
“I mean that you and me are happening, Princess. The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be.”
Before I can respond, he captures my mouth in another searing kiss that leaves me dizzy and desperate. When he pulls back, his thumb traces my swollen lips.
“Fix your dress,” he orders, stepping back. “And I’ll be in touch soon.”
Then he’s gone, leaving me sitting on the bathroom counter with my dress bunched around my waist and my mind reeling.
With trembling fingers, I smooth my hair back into place and adjust my dress. But I can’t erase the flush on my cheeks or the satisfied glow in my eyes.
I can only hope the dark lighting of the club will hide what just happened.
The soundsof the party drift up from the floors below as I leave the bathroom and make my way to the elevator.
The thought of facing Gio after what just happened makes my stomach clench with dread. How will I look him in the eye? How will I pretend nothing has changed when everything has?
The elevator doors open, and I step inside, watching my reflection in the mirrored walls. I practice the smile I’ve perfected over years of galas and charity events. Pleasant. Composed. Revealing nothing of the storm raging inside me.
By the time the doors open on the main floor, I’ve reassembled my mask.
I step out and scan the crowd for Gio. Finally, I see him standing near the bar. Even from this distance, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes dart around the room as he looks for me.
Shit.
I’ve been gone too long.
Before I can move toward him, my gaze collides with Reign’s from across the room. He’s standing next to Marcus with a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand, but his attention is fixed entirely on me. The intensity of his stare sends heat coursing through my veins. I force myself to look away, but the damage is done. I feel marked by him, claimed in a way that both terrifies and thrills me.
“There you are.” Gio’s voice startles me. “I was about to send someone to find you.”
I turn to him with my practiced smile. “Sorry. There was a line.”
His eyes narrow slightly. “You missed my toast to Ben.”
“I’m… I—I wasn’t feeling well.”
He wraps an arm around my waist. “Are you better now?”
“Actually, I’m still not feeling well,” I say, touching my temple lightly. “I think I need to call it an early night.”
His grip on my waist tightens. “What’s wrong?”
“Just a headache. Too much excitement, I think. You should stay, though. This is your night to celebrate Ben’s victory.”
“Nonsense. If you’re not feeling well, we leave together.”
“Really, Gio, you don’t need to?—”
“I said we’re leaving.” He signals to one of his men across the room with a subtle nod. “Marco will bring the car around.”
I want to protest, to insist I can take a rideshare home, but the steel in his eyes stops me.
“Of course,” I murmur, my stomach sinking.
As we move toward the exit, I can’t help but glance back toward where Reign was standing. He’s still there, his pale eyes tracking our movement across the room. Even from this distance, I feel the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. Those eyes burn into my back as Gio guides me through the crowd, his hand firmly planted at the base of my spine.
The elevator ride down seemingly takes an eternity. Gio stands beside me in silence, but I can feel his mood shifting, darkening like storm clouds gathering on the horizon. By the time we reach the ground floor, the tension radiating from him is almost suffocating.
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